


King Sized Queen

by meh_guh



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik, The Simpsons
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Interspecies Sex, M/M, No beta we die like mne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meh_guh/pseuds/meh_guh
Summary: Burns is a dragon. It doesn't change as much as you might think.





	King Sized Queen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dodificus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dodificus/gifts).



> NOT EVEN GOD CAN JUDGE ME

Springfield had once been such a nice town, Burns sulked, curling more tightly around the exhaust pipe running through his office. It had been warm and filled with humans stupid enough to be bent to his plans.

There remained plenty of idiot humans (they hardly had sufficient life spans to ameliorate their ignorance), but the weather was intolerably cold these days, even in the oh-so-brief Summers. It was enough to tempt a relocation to the Caribbean, if not for the abominable tax implications of shifting head offices at this point in the financial year.

He was disturbed from his brooding by the tiny human-door at the North-East end of the room opening and closing. His current amanuensis slipped in, closing the door with admirable efficiency so had Burns not been watching he would not even have noticed the breath of cooler air from the factory entering.

Smithers was humming something quietly, and carrying a bulky package as well as the usual pile of papers to be audited and countersigned.

‘What do you have there?’ Burns asked, slithering a little away from the exhaust pipe to sniff at the package. It was wrapped in paper which was almost attractive; gold and deep reds with a splash of white.

‘Mister Burns!’ Smithers gasped, his thrumming heartbeat speeding up even more to Burns’s keen ears. ‘I thought you were asleep!’

‘I never sleep,’ Burns said, blinking slowly and smirking to drive home the promise of his eternal vigilance.

Smithers swallowed audibly and the blood rose in his cheeks, turning his complexion to cherry. ‘Of course, sir. I’d never suspect you of such a dereliction.’

‘Hmmm…’ Burns flicked his tongue out to taste the odd scents pouring off Smithers. Musky and submissive together, mixed with a metallic taste from the bundle in his arms. The musky scent was increasing in strength the longer Burns tasted the air, Smithers’s eyes widening and following Burns’s tongue as it darted towards him. ‘Interesting…’

Smithers’s flush intensified further and he shifted awkwardly. ‘It’s Christmas, sir. I thought I’d get you a small token of my esteem-’

Burns closed the distance, knees creaking in protest as he lowered his head to the floor. Smithers had always been delightfully respectful and submissive to Burns’s needs, and as the man said it _was_ Christmas. He was clearly suffering in rut, and it was best of all a _cheap_ gift to give.

Burns stretched his tongue out and pressed it in a here-and-gone flicker against the bulge at Smithers’s crotch. Smithers gasped and the scent of his rut intensified, his hips pressing forward after Burns’s retreating tongue.

‘Sir…’ Smithers’s eyes widened and he swallowed again, an uncomfortable-sounding _glunk_. ‘I…’

‘Well?’ Burns tilted his head. ‘Are you turning me down?’

Smithers shuddered, the prettily-wrapped package dropping to the floor with a dull thunk as his eyes closed. His breath had gone uneven and laboured, and Burns had a moment of concern that he was going to have to go through the irritation of recruiting a replacement twenty years earlier than expected.

He sat back, displeasure already rumbling through his thin chest, but Smithers swayed forwards with a mewling sound.

Burns felt his own sex stirring for the first time in a long time. Smithers was so delightfully _responsive_ and _submissive_ that his cockstand was firming behind the protective sheath. He felt his own heart rate strengthening, blood thrumming harder and faster than it had since the gold rush.

‘S...sir…’ Smithers’s breathing hitched and he turned his face up towards Burns, eyes shining. ‘Oh _sir_ …’

Burns felt his nostrils flaring and he craned forward again, tongue leading the way to Smithers’s straining cockstand. The musk scent was overpowering now, a damp spot darkening the front of Smithers’s pants under Burns’s tongue.

‘Oh…’ Burns curled his talons into the hardwood floor and breathed in hard. ‘Hrrrmmmm…’

Smithers made a broken sound, fingers curling uselessly in the air as his hips jerked forward after Burns’s tongue.

‘Open them,’ Burns growled, pressing his muzzle forward to breathe in the delicious desperation pouring off Smithers. ‘Show yourself to me.’

The noise Smithers made then was inflaming beyond all reason, and Burns found himself grinning as the human fumbled his trews open. The salty musk scent flared in Burns’s nostrils even as a pearly drop beaded on the tip of his red cock, shirt tails trailing to the sides and pants sliding towards the floor. Before he’d even realised he’d made the decision, Burns found himself licking at the droplet.

‘ _ **Christ**_ ,’ Smithers shouted, hands flying up to clutch at the tender scales around Burns’s snout. It was a greater liberty than anyone had dared to take in longer than Burns could recall and it sent an unexpected frisson down his body.

He hummed a pleased noise and wrapped his tongue around Smithers, breathing out hot and wet against Smithers’s legs. Smithers swore softly, cock leaking under Burns’s tongue in a very gratifying manner, salt and bitter blooming across his palate with delightful abandon. 

‘Oh God!’ Smithers twitched forward, fingers digging in almost painfully to Burns’s nose. ‘Oh _**sir!**_ ’

Burns smirked and hummed to test what the vibrations would do. Smithers made a choking noise and spilled, hot seed splattering on Burns’s tongue in an oddly small serve.It was gratifying beyond words to get such a reaction from so little effort, and Burns drew his tongue in to savour the taste of submission.

But his own member was fully awake now, and if there was one thing an employee had to keep in mind it was that _he_ was the boss. The boss’s needs obviously took precedence.

Burns uncoiled from the pipe entirely and rolled onto his side, pressing his aching back against the heat. His eager pego pushed out through the sheath, glistening with his juices and desperate for relief. It had been so long since Burns had pursued a mating he was almost surprised at the rush of blood pounding in his ears. Had it always been this _urgent_? Had he really forgotten how this felt?

Smithers’s breath was ragged, and when Burns looked down at him, his eyes were fixed on Burns’s prick, mouth hanging open and pupils dilated so only the thinnest ring of brown was visible. It was a crying shame, Burns thought, that humans were too small for mounting. That Smithers’s mouth and tongue were too small for a reciprocation.

‘Remove your clothes,’ Burns ordered, narrowing his eyes in pleasure as Smithers tripped over his own feet in his eagerness. ‘Press against me.’

Smithers whined and stumbled over the plush carpet to Burns’s member. He reached a trembling hand out and stroked over the sensitive vein running up the back. Burns hissed and shifted his hips forward.

‘ _Sir_ …’ Smithers breathed, and he brought his arms up to encircle Burns’s cockstand, pressed his soft human body against nerves which had gone untouched in a hundred years. Smithers shuddered, warm and clinging as Burns’s pego slipped through his grip, the head slapping against the side of Smithers’s jaw and sending sparks like black powder along Burns’s nerves. ‘ _ **Sir…**_ ’

Smithers was licking at the vein, over the slit at the crown, his tiny mouth evidently big enough to mark sensitive spots. Burns curled his talons into the carpet, heedless of the splintering floorboards and shredded wool while Smithers undulated against him. He growled, unable to stop it and already regretting scaring Smithers off, but Smithers just tightened his grip and muttered something too quietly for Burns to hear over the thunder of his own pulse.

It was too much, and the sudden tightening at the base of his tail caught Burns by surprise. He let out a yell and spent in great trembling bursts, drenching Smithers and ruining the carpet.

Well, Burns allowed, the carpet had probably not been salvageable after the clawing. It was _certainly_ destined for the incinerator now.

Smithers slid to the floor, breathing hard and grinning. He was well and truly sated, and Burns in his own afterglow felt a spark of magnanimity. Of all the humans he’d ever employed, Smithers was the most devoted and devotion deserved reward. But first things first.

‘What is it?’ Burns nosed at the fallen gift, darting his tongue out to taste the packaging. Metallic, certainly, but not gold. It tasted rather more humble than silver, too.

‘Oh!’ Smithers climbed to his feet again, though his steps were wobbly as he crossed to his pile of clothes. He was shiny with Burns’s seed, unconcerned with his own nakedness, and Burns was startled to find his loins twitching with interest. Something about a completely subservient human coated in his scent was irresistible. ‘I was going to leave it on your desk, but if you want it now…’

‘I want,’ Burns hissed, reaching a careful hand out to pluck at the paper. It gave under the slight pressure of his foretalon, and there was the sparkle of polished stone.

Smithers flushed again; the colour visible across his whole chest. ‘It’s nothing special. Not as expensive as you deserve-’

Burns breathed out through his nostrils, just a little more gently than a snort. ‘Open it. _Show me._ ’

Smithers’s blush deepened and the scent of arousal bloomed again. With unsteady hands, he picked at the paper, folding it back to reveal…

‘Why, it’s _me!_ ’ Burns cried, delighted. Hardly the length of Smithers’s arm, it was a marvelous statuette of Burns twined around the smokestacks of his nuclear plant. The eyes were oversized, blue stones cut to flash in the smallest glint of light. There was a line of crystals tracing the ridges which in days long past had been razor-edged thorns along Burns’s spine. The miniature Burns was made of brass, but it had been polished to a sheen that was nearly as lovely as gold. The smokestacks were steel, forming both a sturdy base for the portrait and a testament to Burns’s achievements as a dragon of business. There was even a delicate enamel flame bursting from the tiny Burns’s mouth.

‘It’s not much,’ Smithers said, ducking his head. ‘But I thought-’

‘It’s _mine_ ,’ Burns said firmly, plucking the delightful statuette from Smithers’s grip with great care. ‘It’s _perfect_.’

Smithers brightened, everything about him suddenly radiating “pleased and owned”. Burns breathed out hard and slithered across to his desk to place the statuette in the shaft of light from the skylight. It gleamed.

‘I’m glad you like it, sir,’ Smithers said, and when Burns turned to look at him, he was already dressed and picking up the discarded wrapping paper. ‘I’ll leave you be.’

He turned to cross the carpet to the door, steps a little uneven. Burns considered letting him leave; pretending the afternoon’s tryst had never happened. But it had been very pleasant, and good help was hard to find. Whatever he could do to cajole the man into staying and being as blasted efficient and devoted was worth the effort.

‘Smithers,’ Burns called before Smithers could slip out. ‘Same time tomorrow?’

Smithers beamed. ‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sir.’

Burns grinned as the door closed, tapping his talons rhythmically on the floor. ‘E-e-excellent.’


End file.
